


Oh, How I Loved You Then

by Raisin_brans



Category: The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: F/F, Offred's name is Kate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisin_brans/pseuds/Raisin_brans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moira reflects on her first real love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, How I Loved You Then

The blue light from the campus emergency phone was casting an ethereal glow into the small dorm room. It was almost three in the morning, and Kate and I were failing to get any sleep. There was too much going on. Too much in the world. Too much in our country. Too much in my head. I remember looking over to her bed, seeing her eyes roll to meet mine. God, I wish I had spent more time looking at her. I had known from the first time I saw her that Kate was beautiful, but it wasn't until that night that I gave those observations a second thought. "It's obvious" I would say. "Anyone with eyes can see it." Oh, how things changed.

It was a slow night, the kind that overflows the heart and spills words from unencumbered mouths. I remember we were talking about term papers. Such a pedestrian topic that could only be profound on a night such as that.

"What did you write about?" she asks. The lilt of her voice spoke of her genuine interest in what I had to say, such a foreign concept to a cultural deviant such as myself.

"I'll tell you if you tell me first," I said with a smile in my voice.

Kate was a good student, so, of course, her paper was about a suitable topic, the role of mothers in a child's psychology. Having met her mother on several occasions, I could see why she had picked the topic. Not many mothers would take their children to festivals for the express purpose of burning pornography. Who would want their kid to see that?

I could listen to her talk for hours about anything; she had such a way with language. I could only envy her command of every grammatical rule and loophole in the book and her ability to embellish even the most boring topic with her little insights. She had an opinion on everything. But unlike me, she had enough tact to wait until the time was right to express it. That would serve her well in the future was coming our way. I rather liked the sound of that, "our way", implying that we would still face everything together after college. I wanted that. I didn't know why, maybe I just thought I needed the company.

She turned to look at me, her hair now falling over her left shoulder like something out of classical painting, or maybe like the old pin up on her wall. Maybe being the way I am made it easier for me to see beauty in front of me. It was not strange for me to notice the little things about Kate that made her beautiful. Her wavy, sandy colored hair, her wide eyes, her smooth shoulders, it was all wonderful. I'm sure it still is.

She asked what I had written about. I started a little, having gotten lost in my thoughts about her.

"The meaning of love" I replied.

She asked what I had said about it.

I told her that love was valuing someone else above yourself. That love was the genuine joy that you get from simply being with someone. Love is what you keep trudging on for when it seems the world has stopped turning. She looked thoughtful at this. Her eyebrows were pulling up and together slightly as the bow of her lips pursed. That was one thing about Kate; she was very expressive. Then, much to my surprise and slight embarrassment, she giggled.

"It sounds like someone has a crush!" she said with a smile in her voice, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I remember sputtering some pathetic excuse of a denial that was probably more evidence for her assumption than any other statement I could have made. I must have looked like some exotic fish for how wide my eyes became and how my mouth had dropped open. Of course, I did not have a crush! That's what I was telling myself, at least.

But then I looked at her again. Something clicked into place.

When I had been writing, I had not had to think very carefully about what love meant because I had an example right in front of me. I had written what I felt for Kate. I had written an entire term paper about loving my best friend, and I hadn’t even noticed it. Somehow, between the classes, extracurriculars, and quiet nights, I had fallen in love with my best friend.

I was afraid. I was scared of losing her; I was afraid that she wouldn't accept me after this. It was kind enough of her to put up with my sexuality in the first place, but how would she handle it if that desire was directed towards her? I thought that she would hate me, so I decided that I would keep it a secret. She would never have to know.

Of course, I could not just keep going as I was. So in the quiet of the night, watching Kate roll her eyes fondly at my idiocy, I promised myself that we would stay together, stay friends, no matter what.

I have not seen Kate in many years. I was taken by the government, and placed in this seedy sex club far away from her. I exist now only as an instrument of pleasure for disgusting old men, but when I think of her, it is not so bad. Sure, I'm sure she would be disgusted with me, but it's not like I ever told her what she had meant to me. I miss her, it’s so dreary here, the bathrooms are full of smoke, and our clientele leave much to be desired. It is a living hell, but i'm glad that I’m here, and not her.

I hear some of the other girls talking. Apparently some Commander has brought in a girl with him.

"Probably his Handmaid" one of them says. There is pity and envy in her voice. I sigh, thinking of what the Commander is doing with her, the humiliation this Handmaid is probably feeling.

Maybe I'll try and talk to her.  
Oh my god…


End file.
